


Tales from the Riverside

by A_Diamond



Series: Beautiful Maladies [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Cabins, Car Sex, Domestic, Fandom Trumps Hate, Fluff and Smut, Hot Tub Sex, M/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:00:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Diamond/pseuds/A_Diamond
Summary: They found the cabin their first spring as married men and rented it for an extra-long weekend, taking enough time off work that they could escape to the middle of nowhere for seven days straight.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alessariel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alessariel/gifts).



> Alessariel,
> 
> I hope this satisfies. <3 Thanks for doing some good in the world.

They found the cabin their first spring as married men and rented it for an extra-long weekend, taking enough time off work that they could escape to the middle of nowhere for seven days straight. They hadn’t taken a proper honeymoon after the wedding, so they figured they deserved it.

Driving over the pass through the early April snow was nerve-racking, especially cresting the summit when it started to flurry directly at the windshield, but they made it back to less icy elevations with a minimum of swearing. White still blanketed the mountains around them, but the road was free of slush and the sky sent no more flakes down to obscure Dean’s view.

The tape deck clicked over into silence as the cassette ended. When Cas made no move to replace it, Dean glanced over and found his husband—still new, still thrilling: his husband—staring out the window at the rocks and trees, lost in thought.

“Cas?”

“Mmm?” Cas turned and his contemplative expression melted with the warmth of his widening smile. So did Dean’s heart.

“Everything okay?”

Cas hummed a soft noise, looking out the window again. It wasn’t an answer, but it sounded like the start of one, so Dean let him sit on it for a few more miles.

“I haven’t been east of the Cascades since my last Christmas at Michael’s. It’s... evoking stronger feelings than I anticipated.”

Dean didn’t swerve the car to the snowy shoulder or anything stupidly dramatic like that, but he did ease off the gas and risk another look at Cas. Michael, and really anything else to do with any Novak who wasn’t Balthazar, hadn’t come up since the rejected wedding invitations. Dean had kind of assumed they were pretending there wasn’t any more to the Novak family. Cas had even taken down the picture of him and his siblings as children that used to hang above the bed, and Dean was pretty sure it wasn’t because of his own complaints about baby Balthazar watching them get freaky.

He was fine with that, but it meant he had no idea how to handle the subject now that it was coming up again. “Do you wanna, uh, head home?”

“No.” Cas’s hand landed on Dean’s thigh, squeezing briefly and then just resting there warm and welcome. “I want to go to a secluded mountain cabin where we can fuck for a week straight with no interference from the outside world.”

The car lurched as Dean’s leg twitched, and Cas, laughing, removed his hand.

“How much longer?” Dean asked in a calm, controlled tone that sounded absolutely nothing like a whine.

“Forty-five minutes.”

“Betcha I can make it in under forty.”

“Dean, you’re supposed to be—”

“Time me. I’ll spend however long’s left over blowing you in the back seat.”

Cas blew out a long sigh, but there was an undercurrent of laughter to it. Voice low and amused in spite of himself, he said, “All right. But if you get pulled over, I just might be trading up for a trooper in a funny hat.”

“Hey!” Dean tried to put on a pout, but it was spoiled by the grin that tugged at its corners. “What if it’s a lady trooper in a funny hat?”

“Probably still an upgrade.”

Dean smacked Cas in the chest with the back of his hand and accelerated smoothly. Thirty-seven minutes later, parked in a wide, snowy gravel drive with no other sign of life in sight for at least a mile, he had Cas spread halfway across the bench seat in the back with his shoulders against the closed door as Dean tugged his pants off.

He made it last the full eight minutes Cas was owed on their bet, and then a few more just for good measure. And maybe because he loved the way Cas squirmed and swore when Dean pulled back to tease the head of his cock with little licks and cool streams of air.

The next time Dean ducked down to take most of Cas back into his mouth, Cas’s hand dropped down to his neck to hold him there. “Dean,” he growled warningly—or tried to. It came out desperate and wrecked, like he’d been the one with a dick down his throat for ten minutes.

Getting his usually restrained lover so worked up was one of Dean’s favorite things about sex with Cas. He held himself under such tight control most of the time, not as stoic as he used to be but still always thinking, always aware of himself. Even if he didn’t get loud or vocal by most people’s standards, getting him to really let go felt like the most important accomplishment of Dean’s life sometimes. Particularly the times when his own control was being tested by the hard, as-yet untouched dick begging for his attention, or at the very least something to get off on.

Cas let up almost immediately, but Dean obligingly stayed where he was wanted. Sucking hard and sloppy, he worked his hand over what wasn’t in his mouth with equal fervor until Cas was groaning, and thrusting, and coming. He swallowed, wringing another spurt from Cas, and again, until all he got for his efforts were a twitch and a wordless grunt of complaint. Then he sat back and wiped his mouth and chin.

“Come here,” Cas demanded once his eyes had regained focus.

Dean happily leaned in and kissed him back to senselessness, but pulled away when Cas started to tug at the button of his jeans. “We should get the food inside before it thaws any more,” he said. “Plus we’ve got all sorts of new surfaces to defile, I wanna pick a good one.”

Leaving Cas to put himself back together—the isolation didn’t make it necessary, but the cold did—he grabbed a couple grocery bags and found the key where it had been hidden under the doormat.

The cabin’s interior looked just like the pictures had promised: intimate but comfortable; cozy. Overstuffed chairs and a matching couch ranged around the woodstove, which had a bucket of split logs next to it and a shack as tall as Dean outside with more seasoned firewood than they could use even if they kept it blazing for a month straight. The bed, upstairs in a second floor that overlooked the first, cradled him like a cloud when they finished bringing everything in and he threw himself on top of the quilt.

His groan of pleasure brought Cas up from where he’d been building a fire to the bedside, eyebrows raised. “Starting without me?”

“We’re never leaving,” Dean informed him without pause. “We live here now.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep.”

“The bed’s that good?”

“The whole place is that good. But yeah, also the bed. Come on, let me show you.”

He slid his fingers through the open fly that Cas hadn’t bothered to zip. He didn’t seem ready for round two just yet, but then, Dean had gone soft while unloading and unpacking their things. They could work up to it.

They started with Cas climbing onto the bed, knees to either side of Dean, and folding himself down along Dean’s chest to neck like teenagers.

(Married teenagers.)

By the time clothes were removed, and lube was retrieved, and Cas was slick and loose; Dean had an erection worthy of being pushed slowly into his husband, and Cas had a slippery hand around his own hard dick to jack it while Dean held his hips and fucked up into him from the bed.

Even though Dean wasn’t deliberately drawing it out this time, it took Cas longer to come after his first orgasm. But Dean managed to hold out, to keep himself from coming even as he moved his hips faster, helping Cas along with the quick, steady thrusts he liked best in this position.

“Come on, baby,” Dean urged. His hand slid in from Cas’s waist to lavish touches at the head of his cock while Cas’s own hand flew up and down the shaft. “That’s it, come for me, beautiful.”

After, Cas threw a couple more sizable logs into the stove while Dean started the shower for them. It was still light out when they returned to the bed, but they’d been up early to leave Greenwood and there was no one around to judge them for it.

∭

Cas woke to an empty bed and the sizzle of frying bacon. Early morning sunlight peeked through the expansive window across from the foot of the bed, and he admired the view of the nearby mountain peaks as he stretched.

Before he could pull himself out from under the covers, Dean brought a large mug of coffee up to him. The steam that curled off it smelled rich and strong, but the first sip went down smoother than what they usually made at home. He closed his eyes, let out what he hoped sounded like an appropriately appreciative grumble, and took a few more swallows.

“Waffles are keeping warm in the oven, bacon and eggs are done,” Dean said when he cracked his eyelids open again.

“How long have you been awake?” Cas asked. Then, “Waffles?”

“I was gonna make pancakes, but they have a waffle iron! Come on, up, let me feed you.”

Comfortable as the bed was, the food did smell delicious and they hadn’t ended up eating dinner the night before. More importantly, Dean’s appearance had finally registered through the daze of his sleepiness and he couldn’t possibly let that naked ass continue to move away from him.

“Tell me you didn’t cook bacon with your dick hanging out,” he said as he followed Dean, and Dean’s ass, down the stairs.

“If I got burned, I was counting on you to kiss it better.”

Cas snorted and considered considered smacking Dean’s pert, impertinent butt, but he didn’t want to take either hand off the mug cradled in them, so he drank more coffee instead. “I’m a paramedic, not a miracle worker. If you break your dick before I get my full use out of it, I’m going to divorce you.”

Dean spun, plucking the cup from Cas’s hands despite his annoyed grumble, and set it on the kitchen counter. Then he ducked into the circle of Cas’s still upraised arms and pressed their bodies flush together. With his hands groping Cas’s ass and his lips working their way up Cas’s neck to his ear, Dean said, “I got other uses.”

Before Cas could get too excited, Dean danced back. “Like cooking,” he added with the most mischievous of his grins. Cas did spank him, then, a slap that was more noise than force but still earned a yelp that resounded delightfully in the intimate space.

Breakfast proved well worth getting out of bed for, particularly the waffles topped with honey and strawberries that Dean must have snuck into the cooler when Cas wasn’t looking. Dean drowned his own waffles in chocolate syrup and whipped cream, then piled another plate with eggs and bacon.

Cas cocked an eyebrow as Dean carried his feast to the table. “Are they not making you do PT tests anymore?”

“You’ll just have to help me work it off.” Dean’s eyebrow use was significantly more suggestive.

Nevertheless, their post-breakfast activities didn’t include anything promised in that look. They settled onto the couch instead, Cas curled against one arm with a book and Dean stretched across the rest of it, feet in Cas’s lap, messing around on his phone. The cabin lacked anything remotely resembling cell service, didn’t have internet either, but Dean managed to keep himself entertained for hours, only getting up a couple of times to keep the stove burning hot and bright.

“Gotta keep it warm enough so you don’t think about putting on pants.”

Cas didn’t think there was any danger of that. In fact, what surprised him was Dean’s ease with nudity in this setting. He’d grown less self-conscious about his scars in the bedroom, as time went by and Cas proved over and over just how much they didn’t affect his desire for Dean. But even elsewhere in their own home, with the blinds shut and no one who could surprise them, he insisted on boxers and a t-shirt to cover the worst of it. Here at the cabin, windows opened in nearly every wall to display the snowy woods around them; yet Dean showed no sign of discomfort.

Maybe it was the isolation, or just the way that it was new territory where he didn’t feel the same weight of expectations—the surreality of vacation. Cas wondered, but but wouldn’t risk ruining it by raising the question to Dean. When they were home, perhaps, if Dean reverted to feeling ashamed.

For now, he was content just to enjoy it.

They passed the day lazily and happy for it. Dean set aside his phone, rearranged himself to use Cas’s thigh as a pillow, and napped. When he awoke, he took advantage of the perfect positioning to take care of what that same perfect positioning had roused from Cas. Then Cas slipped off the couch, boneless and acutely aware of just how deeply he loved this man, to return the favor.

If his mouth wandered before Dean came, if he spent so long eating Dean out that the stove burned down to embers and Dean melted into a moaning puddle held together only by Cas’s hands on him—neither of them was about to complain about that outcome.

The couch wasn’t designed for two reasonably sized men to lie across it together, but Cas pressed himself into the back cushions and pulled Dean’s back close against his chest and they watched the first Disney movie Dean had found among the vast DVD collection. Cas was out before Rapunzel finished the first expository song.

He dreamt of suffocation, smothered under waves of Dean’s hair, but it was just the trapped heat of their bodies and the rebuilt fire. Since Dean was still sleeping soundly—snoring softly, even—he carefully extricated himself and resettled Dean into the solid middle of the couch.

The comparatively cool air felt nice, and it had been a long time since their lunch of sandwiches, so he made his way to the kitchen and pulled out the ground beef. If he seasoned and formed them, he could probably talk Dean into grilling them.

Though maybe not. Snow still covered the ground, nearly two feet of it in most places. Paths carved the way to the grill and the hot tub, no doubt thanks to their considerate hosts, but spending any time out there would necessitate pants. Cas aimed to have the week continue as underdressed as possible.

In the end, he seared them in one of the provided cast iron skillets and let Dean slumber. He looked so peaceful draped over the couch, firelight dancing its glow over his slack face and marked chest, nestling beside his soft cock as golden-red highlights in the coarse hairs there.

When he had dinner ready, complete with toasted buns, crispy bacon, and sliced avocados and heirloom tomatoes, because they were treating themselves but ketchup was also decidedly not a vegetable, he knelt to kiss his husband awake. Dean sighed into it, stirring but not blinking awake until Cas started to pet his hair off his forehead, where it clung with the remains of earlier sweat.

Cas kissed him again and he kissed back, making a happy humming noise in the back of his throat as he struggled back to consciousness and smiling when Cas pulled away.

“Burgers are ready.”

“Fuck, you’re the perfect man. How’d I get so lucky, hm?”

For a moment longer, Cas let himself be drawn back down to Dean’s lips, their breaths mingling and tongues stroking each other in unhurried tenderness. But he laughed and dodged when Dean tried to wrap his hand around his neck to yank him all the way to the couch.

“It’s a mystery,” Cas agreed dryly. “If I had to guess, I’d say it was your ass.”

Holding out his hands, Dean demanded help up from the cushions. “And here I thought it was my charming personality and clever mouth.”

“Mouth, yes.”

“Jackass!” Dean’s laugh was one of Cas’s favorite sounds in the world, competing closely with his gasps and groans. At the top, no contest, was the way he always made _Cas_ sound like _I love you_. He couldn’t remember the first time he’d noticed it, but he thought it must not have been long after their first ‘real’ date.

They gorged themselves, quite frankly. Cas had made two for each of them and they had no trouble finishing all four off, though they may have had some regrets after as they dragged themselves up to bed. Not enough regrets to stop Dean from reaching for Cas, nor Cas reaching for Dean, and they stroked each other to completion in sleepy satiation.

Resting with his head on Dean’s chest, Cas wanted to stay forever. The sex was good—the sex was great, he never wanted to stop having sex with Dean—but this was what he needed most out of their time away.

They worked such long hours, with their schedules rarely aligning and Cas gone two nights out of eight, that just being together with no other expectations on their time was the most relaxing getaway he could envision. Getting to that point hadn’t been easy; their lives hadn’t been easy. The burns and cuts scarred under his cheek were only the most visible evidence of that.

But they’d made it. He turned to press his lips softly to Dean’s collarbone, then settled back down and let himself drift off.

∭

It took to the end of the second day for Dean to realize they hadn’t used the hot tub yet, and another twenty minutes after that to convince Cas this mistake had to be rectified at once. He probably would’ve had an easier time of it if they weren’t in the immediate aftermath of another round of spectacular orgasms, but eventually he got Cas up and into the shower with him to rinse off.

Dropping into the careful balance of chemicals while covered in come and lube was probably considered a faux pas.

When Cas started looking through their bags, Dean came up and wrapped his arms around him from behind. “What’re you looking for?”

“Swim trunks.”

He stepped back without letting go, dragging a confused but unresisting Cas with him. “No swim trunks. You know you’re not allowed pants this week.”

Cas chuckled and let himself be pulled away from the threat of clothing. “Even if we go into Leavenworth?”

As much as Dean liked the fake little Bavarian town, he wasn’t eager to leave their perfect solitude of their retreat. He doubted Cas was, either. They’d both been worn down from work and, worse, the anniversary of their month in hell. It was a hard time for both of them, though they’d healed to the point where they made it through with only a couple nightmares between them.

Everything about Cas’s demeanor had relaxed since their arrival, and Dean felt more like himself, too. He hadn’t been worried about their relationship, because he knew that no matter what, they would both fight like hell for that. Still, he was glad they’d taken the time to themselves. The idea of sharing it with crowds of tourists appealed exactly not at all. Maybe they’d feel like exploring if cabin fever started to kick in after a couple more days, but he didn’t see that happening.

“Nah.” He dropped a quick peck on Cas’s shoulder and let go, leading the way to the back door unencumbered. “They love sausage there, after all.”

The path to the hot tub had been dug out through the snow, but it didn’t make the ground any less frozen under their feet as they hurried out to it. Dean’s toes felt ready to fall off by the time they made it to the tub, a good twenty yards from the cabin, then wrestled off the cover to expose the steaming water waiting for them. He hurried up the step to climb inside, already shivering; the burn of the hot water as he sunk into it relaxed his cold-clenched muscles instantly and he groaned into the feeling.

Hot water—any source of significant heat—had been a problem for him for a long time after, far past when it had been a medical concern for his healing burns. Getting over that, taking the first shower that was scalding enough to turn his skin pink and loosen the knots in his shoulders, had been a victory celebrated enthusiastically. Shower sex was never really a good plan, had turned out to be a spectacularly bad plan in the tiny shower of his former apartment, but the awkwardness and bruises had been worth reclaiming the space.

He was still working on reclaiming his own body, the comfort he used to have with it. The ego, quite honestly, that he used to have about it. Thus forcing Cas to be naked all week, including outside.

Well, thus forcing himself to be naked, and wanting Cas do it out of solidarity.

The hot tub overlooked the river, a beautiful landscape of flowing water and rocks and snow, evergreens dusted with white, mountains all around. It was also terrifyingly exposed, even though he knew there shouldn’t be anyone else around. He couldn’t even see any other houses across the river, much less nearby enough for someone to catch a glimpse of his scars. It was just him and Cas, and Cas loved him. Cas wanted him. Cas—

Was currently pushing at his shoulder and telling him to move, “unless you don’t have a particular attachment to my balls, Dean, because they are freezing off.”

Being very fond of his husband’s balls, Dean scooted around to the other side so Cas could join him. The tub could probably fit four people comfortably, six if they were really friendly, but somehow or another—Dean certainly didn’t know how and as such couldn’t be blamed for it—he ended up in Cas’s lap as soon as Cas was settled. It meant he didn’t have the view of the river, facing back towards the cabin as he was, but he looked down at Cas’s upturned face, all soft blue eyes and smiling creases, and figured he liked the new view a whole lot better.

He also figured he was a disgusting sap, but he’d come to terms with that when he kept getting choked up planning their wedding. Maybe even before, when he’d realized that Cas was a stupid romantic as soon as he gave himself permission to be, which roughly equated with when Dean had finally given him permission to be, and every time Cas had surprised him with dinner or flowers or a homemade pie all he could think was how lucky he was. How lucky they both were to have made it through all the bullshit, up to and including Dean’s stupidity, and find this happiness.

He wanted to make sure Cas knew that, because he still wasn’t great at talking about the important stuff, wasn’t sure he said it enough. But the words stuck in his throat when Cas reached up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking gently over the skin. So he kissed him, instead. Ducked his head and poured his heart into Cas’s lips, knowing that Cas would know.

Cas’s hand shifted to the back of his neck; the kiss deepened, turned dirtier because he was kneeling over Cas and their dicks were right there, after all. It wasn’t long before he was rocking down and Cas was rocking up, Dean’s hand around them both, and Cas gasped, “Dean, can I—?” and Dean said, “Yes, fuck, please.”

They hadn’t brought anything out with them. It wasn’t like Dean had planned it, and he was still pretty sure lube would fuck up the water. But he was still loose from the last round, so even though Cas’s finger pulled at him a little more than he was used to, it wasn’t painful. It also definitely wasn’t going to work to get Cas’s cock in him, no matter how much Dean tried to stretch himself grinding down on Cas’s hand.

“It’s fine,” Cas groaned against his neck. “Like this, just like this.”

Dean scooted forward as far as he could, so their dicks were pressed between their stomachs to provide pressure where the water made friction ill-advisable. As Cas’s finger moved with him, it found his prostate and Dean reflexively pushed into it, circling his hips for a glorious feedback loop: back onto Cas’s finger, forward into Cas’s dick and abs, so sensitized by the stimulation that even the shallow lapping of the water over his belly, disturbed by his rocking, felt amazingly sensual.

Turned out that showering off the old come before they got in had been a little useless, because Dean came right in the water, clouds of it drifting away on the waves he’d made. Cas wasn’t far behind, pushing himself into Dean’s hand and mouthing at his neck almost frantically.

They clung together, foreheads resting against one another as they regained their breaths.

“We should probably get out,” Cas said, quiet, like he didn’t want to disturb the tranquility of their surroundings, of them. “Between the heat and the, ah, exertion, we’re at risk of—”

“I love you.”

Cas’s smile managed to daze Dean even more than the sex had, not that that was any kind of a surprise, and they didn’t actually end up getting out until Cas forcibly separated their mouths gave Dean a little shove.

“Overheating is a serious concern, Dean. Do you know how many hot-tub-related syncope calls I’ve responded to?”

“Who the hell has a hot tub in Greenwood,” Dean grumbled, but he lifted himself off Cas’s lap and even, pulling a face, obeyed his commands to take it slow lest he pass out and brain himself on the stairs.

The cold air felt amazing on his admittedly over-warm skin as he stood outside the tub, one hand on its side to calm Cas’s worrying. Once Cas had climbed out, too, and they folded the cover back over to protect the water from things that Dean thought were probably less disgusting to other people than their come—“The filter will clean it,” Cas assured him—they strolled back to the cabin less hurriedly than they’d left it.

At the door, just as the chill was starting to set in, Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and held him there, just for a moment, in the quiet night. “I love you, too. And I know, I’ll always know, but thank you.”

∭

They made it back to the cabin every year. Not always in the chill of the early spring, though they tried. They loved it best in the snow, and the depth of winter usually meant the small mountain highway leading in was closed. And they couldn’t spend another whole week there most of the time, but a few days was still enough to recharge, reconnect. Never wear pants and have a frankly ridiculous amount of sex.

The important things.

Although they only rented it a few day a year, to them, it was always their cabin. A private space, and in the discrete times when they visited it didn’t matter who else had been there; it was just for them. Eventually, when the owners wanted to retire out of state and not have to worry about the upkeep, they even bought it.

**Author's Note:**

> [I exist on tumblr!](http://alxdiamond.tumblr.com/) Come say hi if you'd like.


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